


More Than Words

by loves_books



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 10:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4560420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If there is one particular thing amongst the many reasons why James loves being with Robbie, it’s the fact that neither of them feels the need to fill every moment of every day and night with pointless chatter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Willowbrooke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowbrooke/gifts).



> Happy birthday dear Willowbrooke! Sorry this is so late in the day, but I hope you've had a wonderful birthday x
> 
> Huge thanks to Wendymr for being a last minute and incredibly helpful beta. Any remaining errors are, obviously, all mine.

James allows himself a soft sigh of relief as Robbie finally turns the car into their driveway and turns off the engine. For a moment they sit in silence, before Robbie stretches his arms out and clicks open his seatbelt, reaching across to unbuckle James at the same time.

_Thanks_ , James smiles silently across at him, as he opens his door.

_You’re welcome_ , says the tired nod of Robbie’s head in return.

Over twenty hours since they’d left the house this morning, though it seems like weeks, and James can feel their big, soft bed calling to him. He waits for Robbie to walk around to his side of the car before climbing out, and makes a little ‘after you’ gesture, since the other man already has his keys in hand. 

_Glad to be home_ , says the quirk of Robbie’s mouth as he holds the front door open for James.

_Glad to be here with you_ , James tells him through a warm hand on the shoulder as he passes.

Once they are inside, James shrugs out of his suit jacket and heads through to the kitchen, turning on the lights almost automatically as he enters, and stops dead by the centre island, wondering why he’s come there rather than heading to the lounge or even straight to the bedroom.

It’s been a long day. 

One of the longest days James can remember in quite a while, actually, starting with a call-out at half three that morning. Still the middle of the night, really, and what had seemed a pretty straightforward suicide had changed rapidly when a second body had been found in an identical condition barely an hour later. Thankfully, the would-be serial killer had left a stream of evidence behind himself, though he’d led them all a merry chase around Oxford all day.

As night fell, they’d finally arrested the man, after interviewing what had seemed like hundreds of different people along the way, and having to deal with persistent and intrusive press interest. They’d formally interviewed their suspect and, given that Innocent understandably wanted the whole thing finished as soon as possible to get the press off their backs, the two of them had settled in to get the paperwork finished on the very same night. 

They’d ended up ordering in pizza and eating at their desks as they typed, and it had been nearing midnight by the time Robbie had finally stood, with not a word spoken between them for hours, though whole conversations had been held in silence across the office.

If there is one particular thing amongst the many reasons why James loves being with Robbie, it’s the fact that neither of them feels the need to fill every moment of every day and night with pointless chatter. They have shared silences which have lasted for hours on end, never once feeling uncomfortable or restless, both of them content with their own thoughts and the simple knowledge that the other man is near.

Some days, only one of them will need to be silent. Most often, it is James himself who gets lost in his thoughts, and he loves the way that Robbie knows exactly when to leave him alone as well as understanding the exact moment when he needs to start talking and draw James back. Robbie will fill the air with an easy, one-sided conversation about something and nothing – football scores, or the latest exploits of little Jack, perhaps – until eventually James comes back out of himself and into the real world once more.

More rarely, it is Robbie who drifts off into space, and James likes to think he is just as good at knowing when to leave him in peace. He isn’t terribly good at speaking on inconsequential subjects, but he does pride himself on being able to talk for hours on end about any one of a number of more obscure topics. 

He’s lectured a silent Robbie at length on everything from Keats’s poetry to the merits of DC versus Marvel graphic novels, and even once on all the reasons why Cambridge were better than Oxford at the boat race. That had actually led to a fairly heated argument, once Robbie realised what James was saying, though it had been fun to kiss and make up afterwards.

Lost in his exhausted thoughts, it takes James a few seconds to register the soft footsteps which indicate Robbie has followed him to the kitchen, and in the next moment strong arms twine their way around James’s waist and tug him back into a warm, possessive embrace. After a minute he twists around in those arms until they are face to face, draping his arms around Robbie’s neck in return, and they look at each other for a long, long minute.

Robbie looks exhausted, James thinks, and he knows he probably looks exactly the same. Dark circles are visible beneath those bright blue eyes he loves so much, silvering hair mussed and lips slightly drawn.

_You okay?_ Robbie asks silently, those same lips quirking up on one side as the opposite eyebrow lifts slightly.

_Knackered_ , James admits with a simple nod, quirking his own lips up in a tired smile before letting them fall again. 

He drops his head slowly down until he can rest his forehead on Robbie’s strong shoulder, feeling his partner’s hands stroke gently up his spine in silent comfort. His head feels so heavy now he’s stopped moving, and James can almost feel himself falling asleep where he stands. That certainly won’t do Robbie’s back any good, though, so he reluctantly forces himself to pull away, taking his weight on his own feet again. Robbie lets his arms drop equally reluctantly, before waving one hand at James’s jacket, abandoned on the side.

_You packing that away?_ is the obvious but unspoken question, though Robbie doesn’t wait for a reply, silent or otherwise, before simply picking it up with a shrug and a fond shake of his head.

James just lets himself lean back against the unit, watching as Robbie leaves the room, knowing without even asking that Robbie will be off to hang up both their jackets and turn down the bed. He feels like he should say something at this point, though he has no idea what could possibly need saying out loud. 

In all their easy silences, they never ignore the other, always aware that they aren’t alone and communicating with something more than words, if necessary. Most of the time, they don’t really need words to communicate anyway – a tiny gesture is as good as a shout, for both of them. A raised eyebrow, a twitch of the lips. A shrug of the shoulder, even, or a simple change in posture. As police officers, they’ve both attended courses on how to read body language, though James has never needed a course in how to read Robbie Lewis.

Their uncanny ability to read each other has been invaluable at work over the years, and has often been commented on by others, both coppers and civilians. In the interview room, all Robbie has to do is glance at James a certain way to tell him to step in, or to leave the room, or to start playing ‘bad cop’. In their office, sitting opposite each other, all James needs to do is tilt his head a certain way to ask if Robbie fancies popping out for a coffee, or wants to call it a day.

When both of them need the silence, though, for whatever reason, those tiny shared gestures really come into their own. Like tonight, when James simply hasn’t the energy for any more words, and Robbie looks just as exhausted. They haven’t spoken a word since they left the office an hour ago; in fact, now James thinks about it, they haven’t actually spoken aloud for probably two or three hours. Robbie hadn’t said ‘let’s go home, James’; he’d simply shut down his computer, put on his jacket, and raised his eyebrows at James.

Silence seems to be what they both want and need right now, something which seems to be confirmed when Robbie pads softly back into the kitchen in stockinged feet a few minutes later, tilting his head to one side in question before holding his hands up in the universal symbol for a letter ‘T’. 

James considers it for the briefest moment before shaking his head – they’ve both drunk what feels like gallons of both tea and coffee during the course of the day, and there is no way on earth that more caffeine will do either of them any favours at this time of night. 

Robbie nods, drops one hand away and mimes drinking from a pint glass instead, and James actually snorts softly with laughter, even as he shakes his head again. It’s like that, then, is it? 

Both of them too tired to talk, neither of them really needing to talk – it wasn’t a case that is likely to give either of them bad dreams, thank goodness – and this is what it’s come down to. 

_Miming, Robbie? Really?_ James shakes his head with a loving smile, figuring two can play at that game. 

He puts his hands together as if in prayer before bringing them up to his cheek and miming putting his head on a pillow, closing his eyes in fake sleep. Bed is all he really wants right now, though the bedroom seems a long way away. Bed, with Robbie wrapped around him once they are there. And no pre-dawn call-outs, please God.

When he opens his eyes again, Robbie is standing and watching him with such a look of burning love in his tired blue eyes that James feels a surprising throb of want run through his exhausted body, though it fades swiftly. That’s not what he wants tonight, nor what he needs. James needs strong arms holding him tightly, chasing away the memory of the long and stressful day, and he can see in Robbie’s eyes a matching urge to cuddle up together as soon as they can.

Those blue eyes soften as Robbie watches James, and James lets his head and shoulders droop a little as his partner beckons him closer with one hand. 

_Come here, love_ , that beckoning hand tells James. _You’re okay_.

Pushing off the island unit, James crosses the room to Robbie’s side and takes that outstretched hand in his own, squeezing tight then interlocking their fingers in a way he knows Robbie loves, telling him, _You’re okay too; I’ve got you._

Robbie goes up on tiptoes as James leans down, and their lips meet in a slightly sloppy, definitely exhausted kiss, before Robbie pulls him away towards the bathroom, flicking the kitchen light back off as they leave.

James doesn’t even need one last cigarette tonight, and Robbie seems to know that, somehow. Still without speaking, they part ways at the bedroom door, with James disappearing into the bathroom first. He is always the one who takes longest to get ready for bed – his contact lenses need careful cleaning every night, of course – while Robbie likes to sort out what clothes he’ll wear in the morning, so this way works for them.

They sidle past each other a few minutes later, exchanging another lingering kiss in the bathroom doorway – _Hello again, you_ – and James quickly shucks off the remainder of his rumpled suit, abandoning it on the floor and crawling into their huge bed in only his boxers as he waits for Robbie to return. He doesn’t have to wait long before his partner appears, though to his surprise Robbie doesn’t join him immediately.

Instead, the other man stands at the foot of the bed and stares down at James, shaking his head as the corners of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly. James can feel the heat of a blush creeping up his chest and blossoming over his cheeks, even as his eyes grow heavy with the need for sleep. Robbie has often told him how much he loves seeing James like this, waiting so patiently for him in their bed, and James understands the strange feeling of almost-surprise that Robbie still can’t quite put into words. 

Neither of them had ever expected to reach this point in their relationship, after all, not after such formal beginnings as DI and DS, with Robbie supervising James and James always subordinate to Robbie. And yet, here they are, together and in love, and living together happily. 

Both of them are more fortunate than they can ever say out loud, James knows, and that is yet another reason why he and Robbie don’t always need words between them. They don’t always have the words they need, after all.

With a brief flash of a surprisingly wide smile, Robbie nods and quickly climbs beneath the sheets as James turns off the side lamps, plunging the room into darkness. They share one final kiss before settling almost immediately into one of their favourite sleeping positions, James curled up on his side with Robbie spooned up close behind him, their bodies twining together instinctively.

_Goodnight, love_ , is whispered without words as Robbie’s hand strokes once across James’s collarbone.

_Goodnight_ , James replies with more than words, reaching slightly backwards to squeeze his partner’s thigh in return as he starts to drift into sleep. _Love you._


End file.
